September 16, 2015, 9:54 PM

I was on my ride home from watching a movie with some of my sisses and brods. We reached the gym and I had to drop my sis off. We were talking about the usual. Right after she went down, someone on the radio started talking about happiness.

“What if after a long time, you were already okay. You were doing well on your own. But then you came across a picture of the guy (or girl) you used to be with. In that picture, you were smiling. You both looked perfectly happy. Does your definition of happiness change?”

Does it?

For someone who rarely pays attention to such things, I tried to ponder. After all, this should have been much better to write about seeing that I decided to pause writing three other notes. (Talk about indecision, right.)

Yes and no. How do you define happiness anyway? Being pleased and contented? It’s the same thing. It just so happens that I get to appreciate a little more from what life gives me.

* * *

“Do you still have relapses?

The same person threw this question at me. No. I don’t. I don’t sulk or cry or get mopey over things. I don’t mull over various possibilities and what ifs. Heck I don’t even have any what ifs. I know I’ve exhausted every possibility on my part and it just didn’t work that’s why grieving was easier. That’s why standing back up was much more easier. But I didn’t deny to her the heaviness. That at some point, it’s still heavy. Or “empty” as she pointed out. It was probably because the overwhelming love I had just disappeared. It was probably because I’ve been carrying the load of someone else’s for the longest time. It was probably because I was so used at having to burden myself over someone else’s condition and that when all of the necessities and obligations disappeared, it seemed empty. Because it really was empty. I really was empty.

* * *

“Don’t you miss him?”

I preferred to answer this question here as doesn’t elicit the same musings as this site’s layout. (Probably just classical conditioning at work though!) So what’s that? Do I miss him? Do I miss you? Yeah, you’re probably reading this again, I don’t know. So do I?


Because “him” refers to a person I no longer know. Because the person I miss is someone who no longer exists. That’s why, no. I can’t miss someone I no longer know.

* * *

Here’s to writing once again.